


drowning metaphorically

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 16:08:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21496843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: my chest hurts and i can't breathe
Comments: 2





	drowning metaphorically

happy fucking birthday to me

<strike>well, not quite happy</strike>

i really hate parallels

<strike>i can't stop thinking about when it was her birthday and holy shit was any of that real did she mean any of it; did the tape ever matter because i really liked that and did the song she sent me on her birthday mean anything or was it all some cruel joke that i fell for</strike>

<strike>i don't think i'd be surprised if it was all fake, but it still really sucks</strike>

and some days are good but others are just painful

<strike>i know this isn't linear but i've never seen a function like this</strike>

<strike>why the fuck am i referencing math right now</strike>

everything is a dull aching and my hands won't stop shaking

i know i should probably eat 

but it's easier to get sick on an empty stomach

and some days my head is rushing and my body rejects everything and i find myself in a bathroom instead of at chem club

<strike>being late is easy enough to play off anyways</strike>

i wish i could think without being pulled into memories

<strike>one fucking spelling error saying "t h a n k d" instead of thanks and i'm drowning in texts of "who do you like" and "describe her" and old playlists and then i'm getting sick in an east bathroom and i'm so sick of this (pun intended)</strike>

i hate the bad days

today included

one sideways glance and i'm overanalyzing and reconstructing and imagining and i can't breathe

<strike>a kid in my bio class asks why anyone would hurt themselves on purpose anyways and then glances at me and shoots a pointed look at my long sleeves before miming cutting and saying "sideways for attention, long ways for effect" and my handwriting only gets shakier from there and it feels like if i tried to stand up i would collapse</strike>

it doesn't feel like any amount of four seven eight will save me now

and not sleeping is easier than watching nightmares unfold

<strike>it doesn't even happen that often but when it does i just collapse</strike>

i wish i was just never born


End file.
